


and i found in the depths

by birdcelly



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 02:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16008503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdcelly/pseuds/birdcelly
Summary: When they come to a river bend, Azymondias balks.





	and i found in the depths

When they come to a river bend, Azymondias balks.

The water is entirely different from what he knows — quick and white, bursting against rocks and glistening brightly in the afternoon sun. But the smell is the same.

“You remember, don’t you?”

Azymondias looks at the boy. His wings are tight against his sides and he’s not sure since when, or why he doesn’t want to shake them out. He would, normally; he’s walked this whole way with them wide open, the air swelling under them.

“I remember it, too,” the boy says. He’s frowning, hands tucked under his bag’s straps. “I don’t really want to go in there.”

He stares out over the river; then he comes to some kind of decision and sits down right there on the path, shrugging off his bag and setting Bait beside him. His brother and the others are ahead, searching for a shallow path to cross over, and don’t notice.

“I have nightmares,” the boy says. “I don’t want to tell Callum because he’d worry, but I kind of hoped he’d find out anyway — but he never woke up and I guess I just…tried to stop thinking about it.” He folds his hands together: they’re quite small to Azymondias, his hands, and they’d held Azymondias for so long.

Eventually the boy says, “I don’t think that was a good thing, though. To not talk about it. I don’t feel better, and we can’t avoid it forever.”

Azymondias agrees, but his wings stay crammed against his sides. He tries to shuffle forward anyway, but his talons catch in the dirt and he starts to wobble over— and the boy reaches out, his fingers on Azymondias’s shoulders.

“No rush,” the boy tells him. Azymondias sighs and the boy smiles a little. “It’s okay to take your time. I will.”

Azymondias glances sidelong at him; the boy smiles wider.

“I know, I know, you’re a sky dragon, you’re going to do great things. But you’re Zym too, right? And if Zym’s like me and not ready to go in there yet, then we can wait here for a little while and see if Callum can think of another way to get around. He’s smart, you know.”

The boy’s brother is leaning over the bank, just holding onto a branch for support. He’s talking to the elf, waving around with his free hand. Azymondias listens to his voice, head turned.

He’d thought, in the shell, that he would hate a few things. Humans, mainly. He remembers their rough voices around him, their rough hands jostling him, carrying him from his home, his father’s body; he remembers the dark pressing in, thrumming inside his shell and in every corner outside.

And then they’d come, the two princes, and their hope warmed him. He’d breathed so slow the last few days, aware of only their desperation, of their voices close to him, asking him to hold on.

Away from the immediacy of his hatching, Azymondias decides he likes them, he thinks; so now it’s just water he hates, and he sighs again, leaning back on his haunches. The boy’s fingers stay on him and Azymondias likes that, too.

The boy waits a moment; then he straightens and calls, “Callum! We have something to tell you!”

The boy’s brother looks up. Azymondias watches him jog over, half-listens to the conversation going on over his head: he’s more interested in the way the brother’s eyes go wide in anger, then worry and guilt, and, ultimately, the way his hands work at his sides as he thinks of other ways forward.

Azymondias rolls his shoulders absently. The stiffness in his wings doesn’t loosen, but the boy’s brother looks at him — Azymondias doesn’t understand entirely why it’s the same look he’d given his brother, the same worry, the same guilt; and something eases in him, a warmth that unfurls near his chest.

“Rayla thinks the river ends not too far from here,” the boy’s brother says. “We’ll walk that way and figure it out.” He smiles then, at Azymondias. “Thank you,” he says, “for telling me.”

Azymondias blinks. He feels his mouth stretching, and then he hears the boy laughing.

“He can smile! He’s smiling at you, Callum!”


End file.
